From my Art & Spirituality journal. I can't remember the names of the music in question.

I have a curious relationship with noise. Growing up as the second of five children, I have come to hold a certain sort of distrust of total silence. The absence of sound generally makes me feel on edge and somewhat paranoid, perhaps because I feel like my siblings or parents are plotting some evil distraction or onerous chore to spring on me at any moment. Silence is the prelude to something extremely obnoxious. Partly as a result, I can't deal with total quiet; it's necessary for music or the fan to be on for me to feel comfortable enough to focus on either working or sleeping. Whenever I return to [Terabil] from [Avalon], the first night always weirds me out because I can't hear the bizarrely comforting night soundscape of sirens and dehumidifier rattling that I'm used to.

However, I could no more "mjavascript:void(0)editate" to either the "noise music" or the Balinese ritual than I could work or sleep to the soothing sound of jackhammers. The Balinese participation game reminded me all too familiarly of family car trips which would devolve into verbal sparring matches until my father demanded to know if we'd like him to turn the car around or I put my headphones on, whichever came first. The second didn't bother me at first, until the whining drill noise came on. There's nothing less soothing than being reminded of dental surgery, particularly to someone with such a bad gag reflex that she had to take Valium to get her braces taken off without barfing on the orthodontic personnel.

Apparently pure noise simply has too many negative associations for me to ever feel up to contemplating it on the level of meditation. I don't think a mantra consisting of "make it stop! make it stop!" is very spiritual at all.

Labels: school